we can't die because we're young
by ThePlaceboEffects
Summary: When Regina had suggested a cross-country road trip, Emma thought it would just be two best friends-who've-kissed-a-couple-times seeing America without a care in the world. Instead, Emma ends up involved in a Mafia manhunt when it turns out that Regina isn't exactly who she said she was.


Full Title: we can't die because we're young (at least that's what we heard in a song)

A/N: For once this didn't take a year to write! I've always wanted to write a sort of Mafia AU, and when this idea came to me I ran with it. As always, thank you to my beta Jaye for cleaning up the mess that was my constant change of tenses. Also, a shout-out to Leigh for coming up with Mr. Gold's first name for this fic, I love it!

The title comes from Fire Fire by Flyleaf.

Hope y'all like it :)

* * *

Emma's heart was rabbit-racing out of her chest. She just saw men three times her size drag Regina away into the back of a car after crushing her windpipe within an inch of its life. Emma has never been so damn scared in her life, but she refuses to let her fear paralyze her. Regina needs her, and she'll be damned if she just laid down and cried when she still had the power to do something.

She wipes her eyes, catches her breath, and pushes herself off the ground with shaking arms; her mind racing in all directions as she tries to come up with some semblance of a plan.

But, we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves; let's start a little closer to the beginning.

::::

Their road trip had taken them to the mountains of Colorado. The farther they got from Maine, the more Regina seemed to calm down, although she refused to say why. "I still can't believe you wanted to take a cross-country road trip in my 'deathtrap'" Emma smiled, the slight crack in the window that Regina allowed letting in wind that was blowing Emma's hair away from her face.

"Well it can't be that much of a deathtrap if it outlived my Mercedes, so I figured it would be fine." Regina sassed back, looking out the window at the scenery around them. "Where to next?"

"Great question, I think–" a black car, driven by a man who looked like the embodiment of anger and rage nearly crashed into them, causing Emma to swerve and narrowly avoid him at the last second. "God, could he watch where he was going?"

Emma looked over at her driving mate, who was still clutching the grab handle until her knuckles were white. "Hey hey, it's okay, we're okay." She rubbed soothing circles on Regina's knee.

"No, we're not." Regina gulped out.

"What do you mean? It was just a freak accident."

Regina looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the black Bentley that just tried to sideswipe them making a u-turn in the middle of the highway.

"That wasn't an accident… and I… think I know why he tried to run us off the road."

"Does this have to do with how tense you've been the last couple of days and why you pushed so hard for this road trip?" Regina stared at her, but didn't answer her question. "Do you want to say something?" Emma asked, growing tense as the car straightened up and came towards them. Subconsciously, she pressed down on the accelerator a bit harder.

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Emma snapped back, eyes flicking between the rear-view mirror and the road.

"Emma, please. You have to pull over, it's me he wants."

Emma flexed her fingers on the steering wheel, looking back at the driver that was gaining on them, before chancing a glance at Regina. "Do you trust me?" The brunette noddedher head emphatically. "Put this on." Emma reached behind her and handed Regina a motorcycle helmet, before putting one on herself.

"What are you doing?" Regina asked, panic lacing her voice.

Emma rolled up the windows as she spoke. "You're my best friend, and that means more to me than–" Emma realized the black Bentley was right on their tail. "Hold on."

Emma pressed down on the accelerator harder, and watched the odometer hit 75, 100, 110. There was a curve in the road up ahead; the yield sign staring back at her. 120, 130. She held her breath.

Regina clued in just as it was too late to stop her. "Emma, NO!"

Emma burst through the guardrail and soared. The Bentley that had been pursuing them screeched to a stop just by the cliff's edge as gravity started to hit their car.

"Brace yourself," Emma yelled through her helmet. Her vintage Volkswagen hit the rock face with a deafening crunch, and started flipping, trunk over front. Regina screamed. Emma had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel as if anything but God could save them.

Breathe in, breathe out, try not to throw up.

After what felt like an eternity on the roller coaster from hell, the car came to a stop, thankfully, right-side up. Regina had braced herself against the dashboard, and once she realizes the car stopped moving, she slowly returned to an upright position.

"Get out, it can't look like we survived."

"What?"

"Out!" Emma yelled. She was operating on autopilot. The Bug was scratched and dented beyond belief, but considering what she just put the car through, she was surprised that it was still in one piece. Regina crawled out of the car, careful not to open the door too far. Emma left from her side, grabbing their duffle bags from the back seat as she got out. Emma took her motorcycle helmet off and threw it back in the car, before she took her favorite Zippo, the one she got from her final foster parents on her eighteenth birthday with a swan engraved on the casing, and threw it into the car as well.

Immediately, the upholstery caught fire, engulfing the inside. "Move!" Emma started crawling through the brush, with Regina hot on her heels. Just as they disappeared behind tall bushes, the engine exploded, and the fire raged on.

Emma chanced a glance to the top of the mountain. The Bentley was still there, but from what she could tell, the driver hadn't got out. From that vantage point, there's no way he saw their escape; they were safe, for now.

"Do you want to explain what's going on?"

Regina sighed, taking off her motorcycle helmet and shaking out her hair. "I ca–"

"Don't you _dare_ say you can't Regina. I just drove my car of a fucking cliff, I deserve an explanation."

"I didn't _ask_ you to do that you impulsive idiot!" Regina hissed back, smacking Emma on the shoulder.

"You didn't have to. I told you before, you're my best friend, ride or die. I didn't mean it _literally_ when I said that, but I'm never going to abandon you," Emma took a deep breath, "but I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

"Listen, I have to go," Regina said, her eyes darting everywhere at once.

"What do you mean you have to go?!" Emma grabbed hold of Regina, utterly bewildered. "Where's this coming from?" She barely recognized Regina now - her kind face gone cold, clinical, a stranger's face to Emma.

"I'm sorry." Regina yanked away. "But there are–there are things I haven't told you. Couldn't tell you. And now they've found me." She looked at Emma, anguished. "You're dead if I stay."

"What are you hiding?"

"A lot of things you'd be better off not worrying about."

"Regina! What the hell are you talking about?!"

"I didn't mean to drag you into this," Regina said by way of an explanation.

"Yes you did," Emma replied, but it wasn't an attack. "You would have left in the middle of the night with nary a backwards glance if you didn't."

"I... I should have done that, but I couldn't. Mother was right... love _is_ weakness, and I've damned you because of my stupidity. I thought we could outrun them I... I didn't think they'd find me, at least not this quickly. I left my phone at home for God's sake!"

Gears started turning in Emma's head, and things that previously didn't make sense, Regina leaving her phone and not insisting on going back for it, for instance, all started to click into place. "Your car is fine, isn't it?"

Regina shrugged sheepishly. "It needs an oil change."

"An explanation, now."

Regina scraped her hands through her hair, unsure where to start. "My family has ties to the New York Mafia."

Of all the things she thought Regina was going to say, that wasn't one of them.

"What?"

"That's how my Mother died. She wasn't caught in crossfire, she was the target. It wasn't an accident, it was an execution."

Emma's breath came out in shuttered staccatos. "Just like that guy tried to do to you, to us."

"You would have been collateral, now though..." Regina's eyes flicked to the top of the cliff some 200-feet above them, where the Bentley still hadn't moved, "they're going to suspect you're involved somehow, that you're why I betrayed them. I moved to Maine to get away from the family business, but you know what they say, you only leave when you die."

"Why now though?"

Regina sighed. "I couldn't stomach it anymore. I saw them kill a fourteen-year-old girl in cold blood just to send a message, and that was the last straw. I couldn't sleep at night knowing that by staying with them, that meant it was just... _okay_ to kill innocent children to further some agenda, it made me sick."

"So... they're trying to kill you for leaving?"

"Yes. I left with secrets that could give people hundred-year sentences, secrets that I'm supposed to take to the grave, and I _will_ , but... I'm a liability. I could rat on them at anytime, and they can't have that."

"How deep are these... ties that your family has?" Emma was trying to wrap her head around what she'd gotten herself into. She couldn't just walk away from her burning car and go back to her regular life, even if she wanted to.

Regina refused to meet her gaze. "Next question."

"Have _you_ ever killed anyone?"

Regina looked at Emma, this time right in the eyes. "Next question."

"Okay," Emma squeaked out, sounding a lot more panicked than she wanted to. "Are you going to kill me if I don't go along with whatever plan you have?"

The brunette's eyes were suddenly clouded with sadness. "I can't believe you have to ask me that Emma, I'd like to think you know me better than that."

" _Do I?_ " Emma hissed. "I didn't know you were in the mob, Regina! What else don't I know, if that's even your real name!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Is it?!"

Regina looked away again. "I changed it the week before we met."

"Has everything been a lie? Is our friendship a _lie_?" Emma's voice was getting higher and higher in pitch. "Did you befriend me all those years ago just so you could use me one day as your getaway driver?"

"Pull yourself together!"

"You lied to me."

"How could I not," Regina replied, too softly. "I knew if you ever learned the truth that you'd look at me like you're looking at me now." Hands, too gentle for what they'd done fluttered and reached towards Emma's. "Close your eyes." Regina's lips ghosted across Emma's, a silent plea for forgiveness.

Emma's eyes drifted open slowly. "You only ever kiss me when you're drunk," she whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break whatever spell they were under.

Regina bit her lip, but didn't say anything.

Emma took a few deep breaths. "Why are they only looking for you now? I met you three-and-a-half years ago."

"I um... I didn't leave back then. I changed my name, but I didn't tell them that. I started distancing myself little by little, made myself harder and harder to get a hold of; it was only last week that I finally had enough and dropped off the grid completely. But I swear to you Emma, everything we have, our _friendship_ , is real. I shouldn't have pulled you into this. If you leave now, you can start over. I know a guy who owes me a favor, he'll start you up with a new house in a new city. You could have a normal life if you leave now; you're the least of their worries."

Emma sighed, "But you're the greatest of _my_ worries, and I'm not just going to leave you in a bush in Colorado and hope you make it out alive."

Regina smirked, "Well, I would have hoped you'd at least walk with me to the main road."

"Regina!" Emma smacked her friend, "I meant what I said, ride or die. I mean, it's looking more like ride _then_ die, but I'm with you to the end."

"If you insist on staying, just know this isn't going to be easy."

Emma smirked. "As if anything with you ever is."

Regina rolled her eyes. "What's in your bag? Anything helpful?"

The two women looked through their bags, emptying it out onto the flattened patch of grass separating them. Between them Regina had two bullets, and no gun, and Emma had a pocket knife she got from scouts when she was twelve. They both had clothing and basic first aid supplies, but needless to say, they were severely underprepared.

"We have to go. They're not going to just _assume_ we died, and if I know anything about Killian, he's already called the Boss."

Emma took one last look at the smoldering remains of her car, the last bit of her normal life before she turned back and followed Regina into what can only be described as hell. They crawled through the tall grass until their elbows and knees were bleeding, put band-aids on, and kept going.

They didn't say much. Emma, too busy processing the last sixty minutes to form words. Regina worried, with each inch they moved forward, that Emma was going to get up and walk away, leaving her to deal with her mess. It's not as if she didn't deserve it, but she'd come to depend on the blonde's company and witty comebacks more than she'd care to admit. They made their way to a main road, picked a direction, and started walking.

Less than an hour into their walk, they happened across a black Camaro that seemed to be in working condition, with a little over half a tank of gas in it.

"This seems too convenient," Emma spoke for the first time in almost two hours.

"It does," the brunette agreed, "but you know what they say about looking a gift horse in the mouth."

Emma took a walk around the car and looked under the hood and the undercarriage, looking for explosives or anything that screamed _bad idea_. Nothing immediately jumped out at her, so she shrugged, saying "This will do."

Regina eyed the car. "Whoever abandoned this didn't leave the keys, it's probably stolen."

"So? We'll steal the stolen car. Don't tell me the big bad mob boss doesn't know how to hot-wire a car."

"I'm not a mob boss," Regina grumbled. "And it's not like we spend most of our time stealing automobiles.

"No, just running them off cliffs," Emma said back as she opened the car door and got to work under the steering wheel.

"Are you going to keep making quips like that?"

"Yeah, maybe," Emma said without looking up. "I'm allowed to be a _little_ mad at you right now, okay?"

Regina crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on the open road, because she knew Emma was right, and she _knew_ that Emma could have taken this whole situation a lot worse.

"Are you almost done?" Regina asked, looking up and down the road, every bit of her on edge.

"Just– about– done!" Emma looked up with a triumphant grin, dusting her hands on her pants. "We should ditch this car as soon as possible though, there's no way someone won't be looking for it, unless they already are."

"Yeah, I know a guy in Boulder who could hook us up with something untraceable." Regina got in the passenger seat and tossed her and Emma's meager belongings into the back seat.

"A mafia guy?"

"Mhmm," Regina buckled her seatbelt.

"Is that the best idea? If they're looking for you, everyone might be on high alert."

Regina thought for a moment as Emma got the car in gear and pulled away from the side of the road. "He should be fine. He doesn't _really_ work for us, he can just be... persuaded to give us cars that are... missing tracking devices."

"Jesus."

"What?"

"You sound like someone straight out of a heist movie, damn."

"Well it isn't a movie," Regina said, looking out the window at the rolling hills. "The main characters aren't guaranteed to make it out alive, so we have to be smart."

"So what do we do? Can we really run forever?"

"We just have to stave them off until they get bored." Regina reached into the glove box and pulled out an old fashioned paper map. "I hear Canada is nice this time of year."

"Canada? It's freezing up there!"

"Vancouver isn't nearly as bad." Regina looked at the map, examining the towns near Vancouver; big cities weren't an option if they wanted to stay off the grid. "Steveston?"

"Where now?"

"Steveston. It's only about forty-five minutes outside of the city if I'm not mistaken, and near the water. It could be nice."

Emma pondered this for a moment. "Canada, eh? I think that could work."

Regina rolled her eyes at the blonde; always finding humor in even the most desperate of situations.

They continued cruising down the highway, heading in the vague direction of Vancouver. As the sun was setting, they decided to check into a seedy motel with tacky neon signs. Emma parked the Camaro as far from the street as possible, careful to avoid parking it under any lights, and they checked in to the hotel using Emma's name and credit card.

"They don't know my name, right?" Emma asked as they were getting ready for bed.

Regina looked at the blonde, hating herself for the fifteenth time that day for dragging Emma into a cross-country manhunt that she didn't ask for.

"They shouldn't. At least not yet. But I mean... they knew where I was... _I_ didn't even know exactly where I was, and Cosa Nostra doesn't guess." Regina raked her fingers through her hair. "They know where we are somehow... you might have to ditch the phone."

Emma clutched her phone to her chest dramatically. "My iPhone?!"

"I'll buy you another one!"

Regina kept looking out the window every ten minutes or so, and it was getting on Emma's last nerve, but she didn't say anything.

Emma crawled onto one side of the queen-sized bed that they were sharing, and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight Regina."

"Goodnight Emma." Regina was sitting by the window, still peeking through the curtains ever-so-often.

Emma fell into a restless sleep. When she heard the door close, and noticed that Regina was no longer in the room, she was wide awake. She didn't want to know where Regina was going. She didn't want to be faced with the truth. And yet, she _needed_ to know the truth. So, almost against her own will, she got up and followed Regina.

Emma swiped the other room key that was on the front table and snuck out, being sure to close the door quietly behind her. She saw Regina rounding the corner at the end of the hall, and pursued at a safe distance. The brunette went for the stairwell, and Emma followed.

Regina looked left and right, but she didn't look back.

When she got behind the building, in a dark corner, she stopped, as if waiting. Emma stayed around the other side, close enough to listen, but far enough that she had a head start should things turn ugly. A man drove up in a large SUV with blacked out windows, and he got out, leaving the engine running.

"You've been snooping around here all day, what is it?"

Emma recognized Regina's voice, but her Brooklyn accent was stronger than she'd ever heard it.

"The Swan girl, they're tracking you through her phone." A gruff voice said, and Regina inhaled sharply. "You're not being careful. You used her _credit card_ , what the fuck is wrong with you Bella? You're smarter than this."

"That's not my name."

"Regina, whatever. Calling a wolf a sheep doesn't change the fact that it's a fucking wolf."

"I get it, I get it. I'll be more careful."

"You shouldn't have dragged that girl into this you know. She's on the Boss' radar, and he's not happy that you've got a 'civvy involved. She's _mezza morta_ already, you need to get her out of here."

"I _know_ , alright? I fucked up, I'm sorry."

Emma peeked around the corner in time to see the man taking a card out of his pocket. "This is loaded with a couple thousand; skimmed off the top so no one should notice."

"Thank you Graham."

"Now stay off the grid, alright kiddo?" The man said with a hint of affection in his voice.

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I know." He smiled and turned towards his car.

Emma ducked in the fraction of a second before Regina turned around and started back towards the room. Emma sprinted down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time, throwing open the room door and diving back into bed before Regina returned.

The brunette opened the door quietly, and Emma thought she'd managed to go undetected. Regina brushed her teeth and crawled into the other side. Just as Emma started drifting to sleep, Regina muttered, "You're sweating. Goodnight Emma."

Fuck.

::::

Emma woke up a few hours later to Regina shaking her. "We need to go, _now_."

"Huh?"

"We need to get going."

It was half past seven, and Regina was already dressed and made up, ready to go. Emma stumbled into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and running a hairbrush through her hair, before she packed up what little she had, and left the room.

Emma checked out of the room while Regina sat in the car with the engine running. When the blonde came back, they started down the road and continued north, Emma's eyes flicking behind her at the slightest movement.

If they managed to stay on schedule, they'd be in Boulder that evening, and have a fresh, untraceable car by morning.

"You going to tell me what you heard?" Regina asked, the car long quiet since the last small-town radio station they were able to catch cut out.

Emma exhaled sharply. "All of it. It's all real isn't it?"

"You thought it was a game?"

"I hoped," Emma whispered. "I hoped that somehow, some way, this was some elaborate prank and we could just go home and laugh about it. But it's not, and now the mafia knows about me and I'm probably going to die and–" Emma's breath was coming in sharp bursts.

"Hey, hey, calm down, you're going to hyperventilate," Regina traced the contours of Emma's thigh in an attempt to distract her from their possible impending demise. "Do you need me to drive for a bit?"

"No, no I just... can we pull over for a sec?"

"Of course."

Emma turned the wheel and parked the car on the shoulder of the highway. Regina didn't stop her fingers roaming up and down the blonde's thigh, even long after Emma's breathing returned to normal. They sat in that black Camaro, on that deserted highway, both knowing that saying nothing was better than saying anything at all.

Emma leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before saying "Okay, let's go."

She put the car in gear and drove off, kicking up dust with the back tires as she sped away and continued down the highway.

"Do you want to tell me what _mezza morta_ means?" Emma asked after a while.

"Not in the slightest."

Emma nodded. "More secrets, okay."

::::

They made it to Boulder as the sun was setting, and Regina was directing Emma to the car dealership she had connections to. When she pulled the car into the lot, a man with dirty blonde hair walked out of the building, beaming at the two women.

"This the guy?" Emma asked skeptically. If she had to describe someone who dealt cars to the mafia, this guy would be the farthest from what she'd come up with.

"Yup." Regina said, getting out of the car as soon as Emma pulled to a stop. "Robin!" Regina threw her arms around the man like they were old friends.

"Regina!" The man responded with a British accent that threw Emma off. "What can I do for you? No one told me you'd be stopping by, or I would've had your favorite coffee waiting for you."

"I need a huge favor from you Robin, the biggest one yet. I need a trade-in, off the books of course, but um... my superiors can't know I'm here."

"May I ask why not?"

Regina considered this for a moment. "The less you know, the better."

Robin scratched his beard and hummed. "And who's this blonde bird you have with you, if you don't mind me asking? A girlfriend?"

Regina chuckled, "No Robin, not a girlfriend. Just someone I dragged into my mess; you know how it is."

"Hey, I'm Emma," the blonde gave the man an awkward wave.

"Robin Lockhart, at your service," he said with a laugh and a slight bow. He turned back towards Regina. "I'll get right on what you need. Nothing too flashy I presume?"

"You know the drill."

The man walked away, leaving Emma and Regina in the driveway of the used car lot. " _He_ 's your hookup? He looks like he should be modeling for Abercrombie or something."

"Not everyone is dark and mysterious, that's a stereotype," Regina rolled her eyes, fluffing her hair with her hands.

"Okay but you are!"

"Am I, Emma Swan?"

"Yes you are, Regina Mills!"

The man sauntered back towards the women with a smug look on his face. "I hope I'm not interrupting your lover's quarrel, but I think I have the car for you. A gray 2011 Jeep Grand Cherokee came in the other day; no tracking devices, no leans on it. That good?"

"Perfect, thank you Robin. Do I owe you anything extra?"

The man thought for a moment. "I mean, looking at the condition of that Camaro, I probably owe _you_ , but uh... we both know someone is going to come looking for that car any day now, so how about we call it even."

"Deal." Regina extended her hand for the man to shake. "Always a pleasure doing business with you Robin."

"Likewise. Keep yourself out of trouble now, okay?"

Regina laughed. "That's about as likely as you growing a second head and learning to foxtrot. See you around!"

Emma took their duffles out of the back seat of the Camaro and threw them into the Jeep before waving goodbye to Robin one last time and hitting the road.

"I'm kinda going to miss that car you know," Emma mused as she drove down the highway. "It had character."

"You just like old cars, don't lie."

Emma shrugged, "You caught me."

::::

They drove until they hit Cheyenne, Wyoming, and decided that was as good a place as any to rest their head for the night. Regina went to an ATM that she found in a gas station while they were filling up the car and withdrew enough money to cover a motel room for the night. She considered draining the account at one time just to be safe, but decided walking around with thousands of dollars in cash was more of a risk than she was willing to take.

Emma settled on a Super 8 motel for them to stay at, and Regina was tasked with batting her eyelashes and flipping her hair in order to convince the hotel manager to let them pay cash, and for a reason Emma couldn't quite place, the display irritated her.

Once they were in their room, Regina was a lot more at ease than the night before. They had a room on the top floor which faced a narrow parking lot and a brick wall, and for once in her life, Emma couldn't have been happier at the bleak view.

They moved about the room, laughing and joking for the first time in forty-eight hours, planning their life in Canada.

"I suppose I'll have to start liking poutine, eh?" Emma quipped as she brushed her hair and got ready for bed.

"I think that's more of an Ontario and Quebec thing, but it won't hurt to try new things," Regina shrugged as she flipped through the television channels.

"What about a maple syrup farm, can we live on one of those? I love pancakes!" Emma stuck her head out of the bathroom grinning.

"That's _definitely_ a Quebec thing, and unless you can _parle français_ , you're not going to make it very far out there. It's also much too close to New York, so that's out."

"Fine fine fine. What is British Columbia known for anyways?"

"Fish and skiing mostly."

Emma made a retching noise as she left the bathroom, "I hate fish."

"You haven't had good fish then," Regina answered, finally settling on watching a rerun of MTV's 'The Challenge.'

"Debatable." Emma flopped down in bed beside Regina, and before they knew it, they were both _way_ too into the trash reality show, yelling at the TV.

"Goddamnit Cara Maria you _had it!"_ Emma yelled, throwing a pillow at the television as if that would change anything.

"Wes I swear I'm going to destroy you if you don't make it out of the gauntlet I goddamn _swear_."

 _Keep it down over there!_ An angry voice called from the other side of the wall.

"Sorry!" They replied in unison.

"We should probably go to bed anyways," Regina said. "We can make it more than halfway to BC tomorrow if we get an early start."

"Okay _mom_." Emma turned over and turned off her bedside light. "You're not going to sneak off in the middle of the night again are you?"

Regina chuckled. "Not if I can help it." She adjusted herself, pulling the blanket closer to her chin. "Goodnight Emma."

"G'night."

::::

Regina woke up to headlights blaring into the room, and her stomach dropped. " _Emma_ " she hissed at the blonde still sleeping soundly.

"Hmm?"

"We have to go, _now_!" Regina chanced a peek out the window and her suspicions were confirmed.

"God, again? _Why_?" Emma was still groggy with sleep, but Regina was already wide awake, buzzing around the room.

"Take the bags and meet me at the car, they found us."

"Why are we splitting up, that's always the _worst_ idea!"

"It's our best chance, okay?" Swallowing hard, hesitantly bringing her hand up to cup her cheek and brushing a tentative kiss across her lips, and the blonde closed her eyes, sighing blissfully at the simple gesture. "To many more." The brunette straightened her back and made her way to the door. "Don't die on me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." Emma tried to sound strong, even though her voice shook. "Soon."

Regina took one last look at Emma, then bolted. She hurtled down the corridor, running logistics, escape routes, how many bullets she had versus how many men. How had they found them? Her mind was racing as quickly as she was.

She was almost at the parking lot, freedom in sight before she were caught around the waist by someone hiding behind a corner. Tasered. Hitting the ground, shuddering. A shoe pressed on the back of her neck. "You should be flattered dearie – I don't normally come personally. But I thought I would make an exception for you."

Her heart stopped; she'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Boss."

"Oh, _now_ you know your place," the man responded, cool as ever. Regina thrashed around on the ground, trying desperately to free herself from under the leaden boot that was crushing her windpipe. "I can't wait to deal with you."

Her insides turned cold, and then her vision went black; the last sound she heard was Emma calling her name.

::::

Emma was out the door of the motel room hardly a minute later, her feet pounding down the corridor, not caring who she woke up.

She sprinted through the halls, trying to keep up with Regina. Just as she rounded a corner, she saw her friend's eyes fluttering shut, a short yet menacing man standing on her throat, and she screamed her friend's name with an anguished cry.

"Sorry kid," she hears from behind her, before a blunt force hit her in the back of her head, and she sees stars.

::::

Now we're all caught up.

Emma woke up to the sight of Regina getting shoved into the trunk of a car; handcuffed, gagged, and unconscious.

She had never known fear like this. It's the type of fear that makes you want to curl up in a ball and never move again, but that wasn't a practical solution.

The cars drove away, leaving Emma alone in the abandoned corridor at four-in-the-morning, having no idea where to start.

"I'm going to die in fucking Cheyenne, Wyoming and no one is ever going to find my body," Emma muttered to herself, doing her best to stave off an emotional breakdown. "I'm going to be chopped up into teeny tiny pieces and scattered across the Pacific Ocean and my friends will be none the wiser. Twenty-five years from now, people are going to forget about me and think I'm on a permanent road trip when in reality I never made it to my thirtieth birthday."

Emma took a deep breath. "Now that we've played 'worst case scenario,' anything else will be a pleasant surprise." She got into the Jeep, both of their bags in the back seat, and she resolved not to stop until she found Regina and brought her home.

Her first stop, of all places, was a Wal-Mart. She figured she might as well get a gun that matched the stray bullets that Regina had, so she strolled into the department store, and walked out with a double-barreled derringer, without even having to show ID.

"This is why people are dying," Emma mumbled as she left the store with a gun, a few more bullets, and a box of ritz crackers for the road.

Back on the city streets, Emma had no idea where to start. She had tracked down bail jumpers and sleezebags before, but she was dealing with the mafia now, and these people weren't found unless they wanted to be found. Her sleep schedule was fragmented, to say the least. An hour here, an hour there in the backseat of the car or a lonely motel room. During the day she drove through the city, asking questions where she could, going into every shady looking building she found, taking more risks than she probably should have, or _would_ have, given any other circumstances.

Emma stared at her empty coffee cup one morning, her bleary eyes too worn out to bring it into clear focus. Six days. Six _days_ spent on the run, sleeping for no more than a few hours at a time. The caffeine made her twitchy, and the lack of sleep made her nauseous, but still, she persisted.

Just as she mapped out her plan to finally leave the Cheyenne area and continue north, Emma looked up to see a large Chevrolet Suburban with New York plates, a car that would fit right in in the city, sticking out like a sore thumb in the suburb of Ranchettes. Downing the rest of her coffee and putting down some cash, she left the diner and followed the car.

A call back to her bounty hunter days, she followed the car at about a block's distance, making sure not to turn on her car's turn signal until the Chevrolet already turned.

The car pulled up to a warehouse that Emma hadn't visited, and the blonde kept driving, parking the Jeep a block away. She took the gun out of her glove box and loaded it with two bullets, pocketing the rest.

It was now or never.

::::

Regina came to tied to a chair in a dingy warehouse.

"You've been out for a day, Bella. You used to be stronger than this."

"That's not me, not anymore."

Killian sneered, tugging on a fistful of her hair. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you?"

"You're going to hurt her," the man who was once on her side said, "Perhaps you already have."

"I would never hurt her." Regina fought in her seat.

"I'm not saying you want to, or would ever do it deliberately, but she's cuddling up to dynamite like it's a stuffed teddy bear. And it's going to explode in her face. Because that's what dynamite does." Killian sighed. "Isabella, you didn't have to do this. You were one of the best, you could have been a Donna one day, but you'll be lucky to make it to next week. The boss is displeased."

"Color me shocked."

Killian's phone beeped, and he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. "The boss wishes to speak with you."

"You're going to leave me alone with him?"

The man smirked. "Just like old times."

Killian left the room, leaving Regina still tied up, fighting against her restraints as if this would be the final thing that made them give.

"Isabella, what have you done?" The boss said from the shadows in a measured tone.

"Babs."

"Is that any way to address your superior?"

"I want no part of this and you know it."

Barbara Gold stepped out of the shadows with an impish smirk, his gold tooth shining in the low light. "What you want is of no importance to me anymore. You betrayed the family, the family that gave you _everything_." He was the only man who went by _Babs_ that could strike fear into someone's core; it was a true talent.

"You killed my mother."

"Your mother's _foolishness_ killed her, as it will kill you as well." Gold caressed Regina's face softly, almost as a father would to his daughter, and Regina pulled away defiantly. "Stupidity, it seems, runs in the family." He withdrew his hand, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a knife.

"I admire you, I really do," the boss said as he circled Regina. "Your resilience, your ruthlessness. I never liked you, but I could…" he caressed the knife along Regina's jaw while he moved behind him, "appreciate you. I'm afraid I can't quite appreciate your disloyalty though."

Gold slid the knife under Regina's, tipping her head back as he stopped behind them. "Do you think if I skinned your pelt off, that a leopard might change its spots? Or should I just kill you?"

"I doubt you'd admire me so much with no skin. I wouldn't want to deprive you."

"Are you as quick to spill family secrets as you are on your backchat?"

"Ahh, so that's why you haven't killed me yet."

The boss didn't respond.

"How did you even _find_ me? I was so careful." Regina asked. "Where did I go wrong?"

"Where you went _wrong_ , my dear Isabella, is thinking that you were smarter than us, smarter than _me_. You should know better. Do you remember Claude, that nice man who worked for the Federal Government who helped you with your name change?" Regina nodded, not liking where this was going. "We have eyes and ears everywhere. He's fairly low down, but he knows when a Cordova lands in his lap, it's best to tell us. He was paid handsomely to inform us as to your whereabouts. All those years you spent in Storybrooke trying to distance yourself from us, we've been clocking you the entire time."

"I'm not a Cordova stop _calling_ me that."

Barbara chuckled. "That's right, you're still playing Regina Mills, the small town girl who would never hurt a fly; grow up!" He slapped her swiftly across the face with his free hand, "You're too old to be playing pretend."

Regina saw red. In an effort to stay alive, she bit down every scathing remark she could only dream of hurling Gold's way. "We both know how this ends, how long are you going to keep me tied up here?"

"Until I believe you've learned your lesson. And judging by the fight left in you, you're nowhere close. Goodnight Isabella." Gold made a show of walking out of the room, turning off the light behind him, engulfing Regina in darkness. "Yell if you need anything, we'll see if someone answers."

The door closed, and Regina was well and truly alone.

::::

It took two days before Regina asked for water. Her tongue felt like lead in her mouth, and she was getting dizzy with the lack of fresh air, movement, and most importantly, water.

Her hunger was a driving force behind her defiance, but the thirst was unbearable.

"Please!" She called out to the empty room, her voice hoarse with misuse, hoping against hope that someone merciful was listening. She could have wept with gratitude when Graham walked in, holding a small glass of water and a piece of toast.

"I fought for you, but this is all they would give me."

"Thank you Graham."

"Stop fighting Bella. They'll go easy on you if you cooperate."

"Yeah... I think that ship sailed when I told the Boss to go fuck himself," Regina chuckled hoarsely, taking the water that was being offered to her.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Graham ran his hand through his beard. "I don't know what to say. I'll try to talk some sense into the Boss, but you have to help yourself, okay kid?"

Regina sighed, decided that challenging the nickname would be a waste of her breath at this point. "Thanks for trying," she said instead.

He sat with her until she finished the measly pittance that had been deemed appropriate to feed her with. Graham seemed conflicted about leaving her; his loyalties were with the organization first and foremost, before any fond feelings he had for Regina. He settled with loosening her restraints slightly, just so they weren't cutting into her wrists anymore, and then he was gone.

It was another three days before Gold came back, swaggering in with his cane and his signature snarl. "Are you done now?" He growled, taking Regina's throat in his hand and squeezing enough to restrict airflow.

Regina shook her head violently, though her body had other ideas. She was exhausted, and no matter how much her mind wanted to persist, her body gave out. She slumped over in the chair she'd been left tied to, letting black creep its way over her vision.

::::

When she blinked awake, she had no idea what day it was. Keeping her alive had been the cruelest form of torture. She was hungry, thirsty, sleep-deprived, and above all, hopeless. Emma was probably long gone, either back to Storybrooke, or wherever the couple thousand dollars left on the card could have gotten her.

She wanted to be mad, but she couldn't. It was her mess, and she was happy that Emma had made it out alive, she hoped.

The single light hanging in the middle of the warehouse gave her a splitting headache, and she closed her eyes again against the unwelcome bombardment.

The door to the outside creaked open, and Maurice walked in. "I found no evidence of the Swan girl," he said.

The Boss stepped out from somewhere Regina didn't notice as she opened her eyes again, head lolling back as if she'd been drugged. "She's the least of our worries. Thank you Maurice."

"Did you hear that?" Gold taunted Regina as Maurice left the room, "your savior has abandoned you. Are you willing to give up yet?"

::::

Emma had just creeped up to the door that the man had disappeared behind moments ago. She still wasn't sure if this was the place she was looking for, but her gut told her to stick around.

" _Are you willing to give up yet?"_

Emma knew this was the place.

" _I–_ " Regina croaked out, but was cut off by the garage door sliding open again.

"Not fucking likely." Emma stood in the doorway, the noonday sun beating on her back. "Get your hands off my girl."

"Your... who the f–" two shots rang out, and in Regina's delirium, she couldn't tell where they came from. When Barbara's grip on her shoulder loosened, and the man fell to the ground, a gaping wound bleeding from his chest, she knew.

Regina sat in the middle of the room, wearing the same pajamas she was wearing when she was taken. Her tank-top, stained with blood and God knows what else, hung off of her like rags.

The brunette looked up, her eyes more alert than she would have expected, to see Emma holding a gun in her hand; her whole body shaking, but her aim true.

Once the blonde realized that the Boss was down, she snapped out of her daze and made quick work of the restraints around Regina's wrists and ankles.

"God Emma, I could kiss you right now."

"You're very welcome to do it," she said with a breathy laugh, and Regina obliged. She took Emma's face in her hands and kissed her like it was the last thing she was ever going to do. She kissed Emma like she was her center of gravity. A hand on the back of her neck, a dizzied breath as her thumb brushed at an exposed slice of skin at her hip and then crept and settled upwards, warm and steady. Breathless, tentative, abruptly shy as their panting breaths chased the silence. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I told you I'd see you soon." Regina said, and this time, Emma kissed her first.

"And you're stubborn enough that you'd bend the stars themselves to see it so." Emma sighed, brushing the hair from Regina's face softly, as if she moved too suddenly the spell would be broken. "I thought I lost you. I thought you'd die and I'd never get to tell you–"

"Shh," Regina cut Emma off with a finger pressed to her lips. "Not now. Not here."

Emma inhaled sharply before nodding. "Not here. Not here with–" she looked over Regina's shoulder, and for the first time registered what was truly going on. She'd always scoffed when people claimed that they 'hadn't meant to kill anybody,' until here she was; an accidental killer.

"I killed someone." The tremors started again. "I wasn't–I didn't–"

Regina was at a loss of what to say. This was something she was used to, but Emma, she should've never been subjected to such horrors. "Are you... are you okay?"

"I'm fine." It came out all squeaky.

"Okay."

"Really, I'm fine." Emma just couldn't stop trembling. It was the cold of the warehouse, that was all.

"Alright," Regina wrapped an arm around her torso. "Just be fine sitting here with me for a few seconds, yeah? My legs are pretty tired…"

"Yeah, sure. Yeah, you need rest." Emma slid down the wall and put her head between her legs, focusing on breathing in, breathing out, and the circles that Regina was rubbing on her back. "Let me know–when you're done–resting," Emma said between gasps.

They sat there for a while. Regina positioned herself so that Emma wouldn't be forced to see the man bleeding out on the floor. Their legs were positioned between each other's, with Regina holding Emma's forehead against her own, their breaths mingling in the space between them.

Slowly, Emma's breathing returned to normal, and she opened her eyes to see intense brown ones looking back at her.

"We have to go," Regina said, finally breaking the silence. "We have to get out of here."

"For how long?" Emma choked out. "How long do we have to live like this?"

Regina pondered for a moment. She wanted more than anything to tell Emma that it was all over, and they could live in peace happily ever after, but that wasn't the truth, and Emma deserved the truth.

"I don't know."

"That's what I thought." Emma shuddered. "Okay, let's go."

Regina got up first, and extended a hand to Emma in order to help her up. "How did you find me?" Regina had to ask.

"Bounty hunter, remember?"

Emma was supporting some of Regina's weight as they walked out. While she was still shaken, it was Regina who hadn't walked in days, and could use all the help she could get as they limped out into the daylight. The brunette used her free hand to shield her eyes from the onslaught of light.

"But, these people are never found, trust me, I know. How did you do it?"

The blonde shrugged. "A hunch, a stroke of luck, and nothing left to lose."

"God, you're cocky." They arrived at the Jeep, and Emma helped Regina into the passenger seat before she got behind the wheel. "Logically, we have a couple hours until word spreads that the Boss is dead, then there's going to be an all-out turf war."

Emma chanced one last look behind her before putting the car in gear and pulling away. "So what do we do now?"

Regina looked at the blonde she'd grown insurmountably closer to because of the adventure that was never supposed to happen. "We run farther and faster than we ever thought possible," she reached across the center console and took one of Emma's hands, "together."

::::

 **Three Years Later – Bordeaux, France**

"I'm home!" Regina came through the door with a plethora of brown paper bags balanced in her arms. "Did you miss me dear?"

Emma came out of the living room with her hair in a high ponytail, wearing leggings, an oversized t-shirt, and glasses pushed up on her forehead. "Mais oui, you know I did." She gave Regina a kiss on the cheek and took some of the bags from her arms.

"How's the Rosetta Stone going?" Regina asked, kicking off her shoes and heading to the kitchen with the rest of the groceries.

"Tragically."

"You're just being dramatic because it's taking you longer than you thought to pick it up. Most people here can speak English anyways, it's not really a big deal."

"It's not fair," Emma pouted. "You learned so fast! It's like you've lived here your whole life."

"I'm nowhere near fluent Emma, and people who _have_ lived here their whole life can spot my textbook French from a mile away."

"How about I practice speaking French between your legs tonight?" Emma said with a wink, bumping Regina's hip with her own. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? See, l'm getting better, I just need more practice."

"You're insatiable," the brunette said with an eye roll.

"But you love it."

"Groceries, put them away." Regina said with a laugh, shoving a box of cereal into the blonde's hands.

"As you wish, your majesty."

"Hi Jinxie! How's my little fur-baby? Have you been good for Mommy?" Regina crouched down and scratched Jinxie behind her ears. It only took six months of whining and whinging for Emma to wear Regina down enough to get a cat, and Regina had fallen in love with the little black kitten on sight, although she'd go to her grave saying she only tolerated her at most.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Regina asked as she stood up and got to putting food in their proper places.

"Picnic? I see that fresh baguette you bought, we can't let that go to waste."

"And then dancing? A new place opened in town that looks like it'd be a lot of fun."

"Sounds perfect."

::::

And this is where we leave our women to carry out the rest of their lives; they never did make it to Canada, but they found their way home nonetheless. In a few years, they would exchange their vows on top of the Eiffel Tower, and Emma would finally have learned enough French to proclaim her everlasting love in the language of love. In a few more years, they'll adopt a loving six-year-old boy named Henry, and their little family will be complete.

They did it. They were able to run far enough fast enough that they never have to live their lives looking over their shoulder. It was hard at first, and when Henry came into their life, they were paranoid all over again, jumping at every little creak in the night. But it has been seven years now, and besides the occasional bump, bruise, or broken promise, nothing truly bad ever happened to them ever again.

 **FIN**


End file.
